


Boreas' Breath

by ElDiablito_SF



Series: Lightbringer Verse [12]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Crippling Self Doubt, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, gross confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF
Summary: On a cold winter morning, Silver muses and Thomas dispels his fears.





	Boreas' Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellel/gifts), [nightmoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmoth/gifts).



> Filling Elle's prompt of SilverHam - "Do you understand now?" (He does)

For a month that was allegedly the shortest one of the year, February sure did seem to last forever. There was absolutely no way they could set sail with the weather being such as it had been, which was to say abysmal. This, in itself, was no different than the previous February. Only this year, that meant he had to wait an interminable length of time before seeing their daughter again, a thought which made Silver surprisingly surly. 

He’d never had much of an interest in children. Truth be told, he may not have had that much of an interest in this particular child either, for he was certainly not thinking of progeny on the night that they’d somehow foolhardily conceived her. Strange things come from forgiving someone, Silver mused. Something dies, something else is born. _Mimi_. It was only when he saw James and Thomas fussing over the little girl in Madi’s camp that something inside him struck true, like a tolling bell. 

He had not been ready to love another person. Children were so fragile, so easily hurt, so incapable of surviving outside the womb without reliance on adults who were _supposed_ to care for them. But then, “She has your ears,” James said with a smile more radiant than the sun. “I would kill for these ears,” he added, placing a kiss against the little girl’s earlobe. And Silver’s heart melted.

Silver did not know how to not love that which James loved. It had been the same way with Thomas, Silver thought, and swallowed against a strange bitterness in his throat. He pulled a woolen, tartan blanket tighter over his shoulders as he cast an accusing look towards the blizzard outside the window. James and Thomas were both upstairs, snoring like a couple of men without a care in the world. Silver resented himself for leaving that bed in the first place, the warm embrace of it, the expansive spread that somehow managed to narrow in when he’d become inevitably cocooned by his lovers’ bodies. By removing himself, he’d once again reminded them that he was an intruder there, that they had made a space for him but at the cost of something else. 

“Has the blizzard made you skittish, kitten?”

Silver turned, drawn into the invisible web Thomas always spun when he spoke, leaning into the heat of his body. A warm cup was pressed into his hand.

“It’s a bit early for drinking,” Silver muttered grumpily into Thomas’ chest.

“It’s hot apple cider.”

“Oh.” Silver gave the cup a tentative sniff. “Thank you.”

“Why do I find you down here, alone and thinking very loud thoughts at the North Wind?” Thomas’ lips pressed against Silver’s forehead. A few months ago, Silver watched him kiss their daughter the same way. It had been a kiss of unshakeable conviction.

“I was thinking of Mimi,” he confessed. “And Madi. And my place, I guess,” he gestured vaguely about the salon. “In the world.”

“Well, you left your place in the world, kitten, and crawled out of our bed to come a-scowling at the weather.” Thomas’ hand was warm and heavy on the nape of Silver’s neck. “Come back upstairs. I could use a second in a battle of wits against James.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Silver snorted. “And, in either case, you’ve been exceedingly kind, I mean, for the absolute wanker I know you for a fact to be.” Thomas laughed as Silver took a tentative sip of the hot beverage. “But I imagine one day soon you’ll grow tired of my presence here,” he spoke into his cup. He could not lift his eyes to stare upon the glacial blues of Thomas’ irises. He always felt so measured by them, even in the heat of passion.

“What are you blathering on about? Have you come down with a fever?” Thomas’ hand pressed against Silver’s cheek, then his forehead. “Are you delirious?”

“Perhaps when the weather changes, I should go live with Madi,” Silver whispered with his heart in his throat.

“What have I said or done to make you think I would desire such a deplorable outcome?”

Silver blinked up helplessly and pressed his lips with dogged determination against the rim of his cup of cider.

“John?” There it was, the glacial look of judgment. Silver had to avert his eyes from the weight of it. “If you want to go be with your daughter, I would understand completely, but do not for a moment think that your departure is something I welcome.”

“I know you love James and…” Silver did not think he needed to finish that sentence.

“I do,” Thomas said. “With all my heart. But I believe I have told you before that even were it not for James, you would still be welcome here.” His thumb trailed over the curve of Silver’s jawbone and lingered over his lower lip.

“I don’t understand,” Silver whispered.

Thomas’ fingers curled into the wool of the tartan blanket, pulling Silver closer, until their bodies shared a single heartbeat. “I love you, John Silver,” Thomas exhaled before sealing their lips together in a warm and lingering kiss. Silver moaned, throwing shame to the mercy of the wind that howled outside, and allowed the kiss to claim him, his mind blissfully empty to all other thoughts. When he opened his eyes again, his lips pleasantly buzzing and kiss-swollen, it was to find Thomas still cradling his face in his hands, a look of bone-melting desire darkening his pale irises. “Do you understand now?” Thomas asked.

Silver allowed his tongue to curl slowly over his teeth, tasting the sweetness of the apple cider and the lingering aroma of Thomas’ breath.

“A number of unexpected things are becoming clear to me,” he replied as he leaned in for another taste. “My Lord,” he added with a purr of contentment. 

“My love,” Thomas said.

“My love,” Silver echoed.

He would crawl back into that giant bed, and gladly remain there for the duration of eternity, Silver decided. Their cat Marlowe would have to fight him.


End file.
